< Translator’s note: The original formatting of the stories has been preserved. The translations aim to remain as close as possible to each author's original wording and expression.

​

When I was 12, my friend and I were returning from an art class, we were waiting for a bus (it was winter), cause we had to travel from a neighboring village to a nearby town.

We stayed behind in class until 16:00, so we were late for the day's bus, so we had to wait for the evening one. There was no one at the stop; it was almost dark. It was just the two of us. Both were wearing long winter coats and children’s hats.

​

Suddenly, we were approached by a drunk man, who started asking us for a price. We didn’t understand and asked what he meant. To that, he started calling us, children, whores, sluts, and said that he would go get someone else to deal with us. He left; in 20 minutes, our bus arrived, and we also left for home. We were horrified, didn’t understand what happened, our legs were shaking… After that incident, I had recurring nightmares; I’m still afraid of men.

​​

Tetiana; story shared in 2022 as part of the campaign “16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence.”